


stun

by spiritedwhere



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, i wrote this as per usual because of a tweet i made, ok so this is like a few years into the future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 11:05:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9653252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiritedwhere/pseuds/spiritedwhere
Summary: stunstən/verbastonish or shock (someone) so that they are temporarily unable to react."Otabek always stunned Yuri."





	

**Author's Note:**

> if you can't tell i'm dead inside from the constant day to day writing this is me saying i'm dead inside from the constant day to day writing

Otabek always stunned Yuri.

From the way he very literally drove into his life all those years ago, to how his proud and strong exterior melted away once the two had been alone, he was an ever exploding ball of excitement, a dying star ready to become a nebula and spread its energy across the cosmos.

Yuri always tried to be prepared for whatever came at him in life, gained as a reflex against all he's had to fight for as a skater. Respect, admiration, even friendship.

With Otabek, Yuri doesn't have a single clue what to be wary for, or how to combat it.

When he suddenly reaches over to swipe crumbs off of Yuri’s chin, he's all gentle fingers and soft eyes. When they walk together outside, talking on new skating routines and upcoming competitions, he's involuntarily coming into Otabek’s warm embrace, only realizing once an arm comes around to bring him closer. Or, when they're alone, he's finding his lips constantly pressed against his, unaware of how it came to that, nor caring much.

It's as if he's losing all sense of direction with him, heading to some far off place he hasn't the slightest idea of.

He doesn't necessarily wish to find out where that it.

If Yuri thought back far enough, he'd find the only moment where he had some sense of direction. Where he had been in enough awe and delight in Otabek that all the pieces of the puzzle came together themselves, filling the blank spaces Yuri had been aiming to fill for ages.

It's when he had laughed.

They all had been out for lunch. The crinkling of his nose when Viktor and Yuuri has begun their disgusting display of affection. How Otabek has reached under the table to rest a palm over Yuri’s hand, how Yuri had obliged, ever so careful so as to not let the couple in front of him see.

He wanted nothing more than to have them stay away from whatever part of his life this was.

Yuri doesn't quite exactly remember what was said during that meal, what provoked the action. He always viewed everything that happened around Otabek to be blurry, out of focus, like a camera only trained to catch him in its frame.

But then, when he opened his mouth and craned his neck backwards and let loose a chortling laugh, it was as if all out of focus had been brought in, joining together to create a masterpiece of images, bright and bursting and so _Otabek_ , Yuri is completely and utterly stunned.

And once he settled down, he gave off a smile for the first time, a truly genuine _smile_ , all teeth showing and cheeks spread far back, and it's like all the stars in the world collected themselves into his grin, dazzling all who see.

Viktor and Yuuri had been surprised, two nearly identical faces of shock at the typically ever quiet skater, before they continued on in their own world, the conversation picking up again. Otabek and Yuri leave themselves out, one having picked up a fork as they continued to eat, the other still silent, observing.

Those his face remains its usual passive self, Yuri noted the eyes, which were still alight with a brightness never seen before. They're shining, as if the moonlight of a hundred millennia ago trapped themselves in there. When Otabek turns his gaze to Yuri briefly, the blond can't help the way his heart twists and warms all in one.

It’s as if he's a fireplace, comforting and inviting, and Yuri never wanted anything more than to preserve the flame for himself.

He never wanted anything more than to have him, to be with him.

To be one.

It's late now, as he exits the bathroom, towel hanging loosely around his neck, hair still damp and dripping lightly onto his shoulders, beginning its descent down his spine. It's grown more over the years, enough so that when he’s interviewed, it's become a constant question if he's deciding to follow Viktor’s signature style as a teenager.

Whenever asked, he scoffs and moves on to the next topic. He doesn't say how he enjoys getting it braided back, fingers lightly dancing along the strands. The way the world seems to slow to a stop as he's seated before someone, both quiet as they embrace the intimate affair.

He doesn't bring up how Otabek’s taken up the task of doing his hair ever since he's moved away from living amongst Yakov and Lilia.

He doesn't tell of how the two share an apartment, using the excuse of less expenses to worry. If it had been that much of an issue, Yuri supposes he could have stayed with Viktor and Yuuri, annoying as they were.

He’s sure he wouldn't have a good enough reason for why they sleep together, of the avoidance of relationships. How they are ever present in each other’s lives.

“Yura, come,” Otabek says to him. He pats the ground before him from his spot on his couch, comb already prepared.

“You know I don't like to sit on the ground. It hurts after a bit,” he tells him. Without responding, Otabek reaches for a couch cushion and plops it down before him, silencing Yuri’s complaints.

It's something so simple, easy to be shrugged off by almost anyone else, yet still leaves its impact on Yuri.

“Yeah, yeah, just go and do my hair.” He moves to sit onto the pillow, Otabek’s legs opening to have one on either side of Yuri. Yuri leans his head back and finds one of Otabek’s hands coming to feel the wet locks.

“Which one should I do today?” Otabek asks, picking up the comb and gently combing through his hair, parting any knots and tangles.

“The one you did last time-“

“A fish tale?”

“Yeah, that one. It looked nice all day.”

"It’s going to take a while. They're a complicated braid.”

“I'm fine with the wait.”

He's fine with the amount of time. He'd rather spend it with Otabek more than anyone else, anyway.

Yuri closes his eyes and starts to settle into his position. He leans back until he's pressed against the couch, and cranes his neck to let Otabek have full reign while he works.

“You did good today,” Otabek tells him.

“Hmm?” Yuri responds, eyes still closed. He can feel fingers brushing onto his bare neck as they begin to braid, every touch sending a new embrace of warmth onto his skin.

“You did good. On the ice.”

“You dropped by?” Yuri’s eyes flash open, but the urge to turn his head back to stare at Otabek is ignored as Otabek continues with the braid.

“Of course,” he says in response. His voice is usually always so clear to Yuri, every nonchalant way easily identified as other emotions in disguise, but, right now, he can't form anything with his observations.

“Well, why?” Yuri starts. He straightens his spine, bare back adjusting its placing on the couch. “Aren't you supposed to be training too?”

“Yes.”

"Then why show up? Your coach is going to pick a bone with Yakov next time we-“

“I wanted to see you.” Otabek says. He stills the movement, keeping his hands placed in his hair.

“You did?” Yuri’s voice is soft, hesitant. “Why didn't you call to me?”

“You looked so at peace on the ice,” Otabek tells him. The strands in his hands tighten under his change of grip. “I didn't want to disturb you.”

“You could never disturb me,” Yuri tells him. “Ever.”

He moves his head away from Otabek’s grip, turns his body to face him full on, eyes scanning his face.

"Ever?” The way he asks, the way he stares at Yuri with an emotion Yuri is quite sure he knows entirely yet, the way he moves his hand to fondly fiddle a piece of hair that's fallen from the half done hairdo.

“Ever.” Yuri’s face is strong and determined as he tells him.

"That's nice to hear,” Otabek lets out. He moves his hand to cup Yuri’s chin, traces the skin.

Yuri doesn't stop the kiss Otabek gives him, leaning forward to close the distance as much as possible. It's different from the ones they've shared before, more so intimate than all of the others they've had. The spark that shakes through Yuri, stops at his feet only to bounce around inside him, is familiar, always there, but now it's burning, feeling him with a passionate heat.

 _It's a good different_ , he notes.

He raises his hand to grip onto Otabek, hand resting on his upper arm. The towel resting neck falls down when Otabek moves both hands to his neck, lips moving against him. Yuri knows him and his kisses, knows how to exactly respond, and follows his intuition, matching him yet feeling somewhat overwhelmed.

It's so quiet in the room he's sure Otabek can hear the pounding of his chest, feel the heat of his bare body against his own skin. With him so close, he can smell the soap on his body, the detergent clear on his collar.

They break away.

Yuri moves his head slightly away, gazing at Otabek’s face. His lips are parted, reddened by the pressure during their kiss. His face is flushed out, eyes glazed over as he looks back at Yuri.

"Did that disturb you?” he asks, voice low.

“Not at all,” Yuri responds, snaking his hands more upwards, resting on his broad shoulders.

"Good." He leans in to close the space. Lips brush against Yuri’s once more. He craves his touch, and obliges to the gentle kiss given to him.

Yuri complains in bed later that night, murmuring on about how his hair dried too quickly for Otabek to finish braiding. Otabek merely runs a hand through the loose hair, plays with the strands and pulls Yuri closer to him.

And as if by magic, his very touch stuns Yuri into a silence.

**Author's Note:**

> @inuyashas_ on twitter


End file.
